


Let's Talk About All The Good Things

by YouFuckinFudgeNutter



Series: D-13 AU [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, One Shot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Number Five | The Boy, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, read the notes for more details, you know how it be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:48:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27784753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouFuckinFudgeNutter/pseuds/YouFuckinFudgeNutter
Summary: Part of my D13 universe. Set some time after Do or D13, when everything has settled for the Hargreeves.A look into Five and Birdie's life together, as Birdie does her level best to convince Five that he deserves nice things too.(This fic was written as a thank you to everyone who has read and continues to read Do or D13. Would recommend being familiar with the main story before reading this, though this holds no real spoilers for that story.)
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Original Character(s), Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)/Original Female Character(s), Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)/Reader
Series: D-13 AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032708
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63





	Let's Talk About All The Good Things

**Author's Note:**

> To those who voted, Thank You! Fluff and Smut won the poll, so I did my best to provide.
> 
> This story has all sorts of stuff - Domestic!Five, Five out of Uniform, Possessive!Five, Dom!Five (low-key tho), Mirror Sex, and of course Birdie (who is living her best life, believe me).
> 
> If you've read Do or D13, you know what to expect - this is just a bit more explicit than usual.
> 
> This is set ambiguously after things have settled, seeing as Do or D13 is still being written.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Just because all was well, did not mean all was quiet. 

The apartment was alive with noise - footfalls echoing, voices muffled, music faintly playing. As Five lay in bed, soft cotton on bare skin, he took stock of everything around him. From where they had pressed the bed into the corner, he could see the entire room and note all the ways he had made a place for himself. His desk was pressed to the wall by the bed in place of a nightstand, a mix of their clothes thrown on the spinning chair. Notes were scattered all around the surface and the walls, mugs acting as paperweights to keep them in some semblance of order. Birdie had moved her vanity to the other side of the room, hanging a giant white board where her mirror used to be. 

That mirror was now directly across from the desk, for reasons he swore were chaste in the beginning. An armchair was pressed into the corner of the room by the vanity, boxed in slightly by the low bookcase on its other side - record player on top, vinyl spinning out the low swell of a melody to add to the backtrack of the apartment. Turning his head to the sound of water running, he takes in the newest addition to the room. 

Pressed to the wall beside the door to the ensuite, a shallow wardrobe stood tall. Polished oak gleaming, the door was ajar - revealing the small row of uniforms that he’d stored to cover his rifle case. For the most part he made do, rarely having to break out his uniform to leave the apartment. In all honesty, he found he preferred commendering his wife’s baggier clothing to roam the apartment - her seldom used sweats and her oversized t-shirts fitting him well enough.

It wasn’t as if she took issue with it, playfully stripping him only to steal the shirt he’d been wearing when they finished cleaning up. Turning over onto his back, he stretches his arms above his head - only to flinch back from the cooling wet patch beneath his hip. Kicking off the linen draped over his legs, he rolls back and over the edge of the bed - landing lightly on his feet as he reaches for the clothes over the back of the chair. 

Snapping the dense elastic waist of sweats over his hips, he starts to strip the sheets to throw in the wash. The sound of water cuts off abruptly, the door opening with a rush of humidity not a minute later. His wife strides in - wearing nothing but the loose shirt he’d been wearing early that morning and a pair of bright yellow panties. She smiles at him, rushing to give him a kiss before she sits at her vanity to brush all sorts of things through her hair while it’s still damp. 

His own smile grows as her humming joins the symphony of their home, his steps as light as his heart as he carries the sheets to the hamper to take into the laundry room. Absently, he reaches out to shut his wardrobe as he passes. Five doesn’t see the way his wife’s head turns at the noise, her eyes catching on the door he’s just shut before she turns back to her morning routine - small crease between her brows. 

-

She had spent so long with the weight of Five’s absence - it seemed there was a permanent spring in her step now that he was home.

Birdie was acutely aware that the hole in her life had been carefully preserved, waiting for him to come and take his place in it again. It was just as obvious that it would take a very long time for that high to fade now that they were finally able to relax. She was content to let each day continue to pass as they learned to live together again. Her heart felt fit to burst everytime she woke up beside him and made her way through the space that was so apparently theirs. 

Working her fingers through her hair, she lets her eyes stray to the wardrobe in the corner again. Her hands move on autopilot as they go from working conditioner into her ends to grabbing her cotton pads to start her skin care routine. The mid-morning light is streaming into the room, everything awash in the soft glow. It looks like a beautiful day and half an idea is forming in her mind as Five comes back into the room - empty hamper in hand. Fingers pausing against her cheeks as she works in her moisturizer, she squishes her face while squinting at her makeup. 

“Five, do you want to go out today?”

The question catches him off guard for a second, his head turning to look at her in shock. In her peripheral, she can see the way he falters for a second before answering.

“Do you?”

It’s an evasive non-answer, which is better than the resounding _no’s_ he gave everyone else who asked. Though, she supposed that the fact that this was the first time she had asked had an effect. 

“Kinda. It’s nice out, seems like a good day to do some shopping.”

“Shopping? Wouldn’t you rather do that with Klaus or Allison or _anyone_ else?”

“You want me to shop for you with Klaus and Allison? Bold choice.”

“ _Shop for me?_ What the hell do I need?”

“ _Nice things, Five._ You can’t run around looking like a school boy forever, way too AC/DC for my tastes.”

Letting him settle with the thought of going out to buy some clothes, she reaches for her concealer. Birdie would never force Five to do something he was truly uncomfortable with, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t primp for the fun of it. If they did end up going out, at the very least she’d already be ready. Five stews as she does her eyeliner and mascara. Paces as she swipes tinted gel through her brows and flops into his chair as she rubs rosey cream along her cheekbones. Spins idly as she dabs on lipstain and debates lip gloss. 

Giving herself a final once over, she gives her reflection a wink as her husband pops out of existence. Jumping at the opportunity, she rushes to dig through her closet for everything she needs. In record time, she strips and pulls sheer lace into place - covering up with black cotton and emerald satin that swishes around her midthigh as electric blue flashes behind her. 

Pulling the waist of her skirt up to rest slightly higher, she spins on the heel of her stocking clad foot. The sight that greets her startles her so much a laugh bubbles up before she can stop herself. Standing in the center of their room is Five - in her old sweatpants, scuffed vans that looked like Vanya’s, and a t-shirt proclaiming that “The Truth Is Out There!” which she _knew_ belonged to Klaus. To complete the look, he has a pair of raybans perched on his nose that look suspiciously like the ones Diego wears on stakeouts. 

Overall, he looks _nothing_ like the 60 year old man he is and she’s grateful she went for a more casual look. Which is immediately reinforced when Five looks at her over the top of his shades. His eyes lock on her chest, which puffs up as a sly smile pulls at her crimson tinted lips. Her hands come up to brush her hair back, her body stretching to rock up onto her toes just to see the way his eyes flash to the skin of her midriff. Falling back, she brushes off the old Umbrella Academy t-shirt that she cut the bottom off of years ago. 

At least - the part that didn’t have the bold white ‘5’ encircled on the front.

-

Birdie’s able to make it out of the apartment, dodging Five’s hands playfully as she skips out the door. 

They step out together into the sunshine, Five following his peppy wife as she sashays down the street. Heels clicking, skirt bouncing, he can’t help but smile at her excitement at a simple outing. He knew he’d been holding her back slightly, with his reluctance to leave their home for anything he deemed inessential but it was glaringly obvious as she waved to people she knew. A pang of guilt settled in his gut, though objectively he knew she was happy with their life.

Resolved to try his best, he focused on his girl - practically dancing in the sun and tried to find that same contentment he found when they laid together in the cocoon of their sheets. Hands in his pockets to hide the brass knuckles he’d swiped on the way out, he picks up his pace to catch up. Birdie spins around him, smile wide and bright as she weighs the pros and cons of going to the mall outloud. 

“On the one hand, there’s more shops - on the other, there’s more people. More of a chance you might shiv someone.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I wouldn’t waste the time fashioning a shiv in a hostile situation.”

“You don’t have one tucked in your shoe?”

“I wouldn’t waste the time getting my shoe off - they have laces.”

“Suppose you’re gonna have to rely on your bare hands then, huh?”

“Best for closed quarters, sweetheart.”

The back and forth continues, easing the tension from Five’s shoulders the longer it goes on. He barely notices that they’ve made their way down two blocks until Birdie bounces over to the edge of the sidewalk - waving her hand in the air expectantly. His attention is torn away from the expanse of skin she flashes by the sound of an engine, dingy yellow cab pulling up in front of them. One small jump and he’s by the door, pulling it open for his wife before following her into the backseat. 

She gives him the name of what he assumes is a mall, and he pulls her into his side to scowl at her over the tops of his glasses. Pleased as anything, she grins up at him unrepentantly before leaning up to give him a sound kiss of the lips before falling back into the seat. 

“Think of it this way, the more stores we hit at once - the longer we can go before we have to do this again.”

-

If a Higher Power was paying attention, they were certainly smart enough to bless the mall with small enough crowds that Five was only keeping half an eye on the people walking past them. His wife seemed to have a game plan in mind, tapping his arm to demand his hand. He lets the knuckles slip off his fingers before he reaches out, letting her drag him toward the overwhelming aroma of coffee beans. 

Birdie leans into his side, clutching his arm close as she tries to explain the concept of Starbucks to her husband. 

“This isn’t coffee, it’s milkshakes.”

“It’s _delicious,_ is what it is. But we can get you some back coffee, old timer.”

“Why are the sizes in Italian when people can barely handle english?”

“Because hipsters are just like that, we’re getting you a Grande - we need to pace ourselves.”

Five argues his case all the way to the register, but ultimately let’s his wife order for them - sending the barista a death stare when he leans too far over the counter into Birdie’s space. The guy has enough self-preservation to back off, straightening back up as he finishes taking their order. He wrinkles his nose at the whipped cream cover abomination his wife sips at, something she notices immediately. Pushing her drink beneath his nose, assaulting him with the scent of chocolate, she doesn’t let up until he takes a sip himself. 

If he stays silent about her choices after that, that is neither here nor there - the same with the sips he sneaks later when his own cup runs dry. 

\- 

Birdie seems to know exactly where she’s going, forgoing the smaller clothing shops and instead hitting the bigger department stores. She knew that the sheer amount of options would take time to settle with Five, so she steers them to the basics first. Gathering packs of cotton t-shirts and briefs, she starts small - asking for his input on colors to ease him into the process. 

It’s easy enough, Five choosing neutral colors before pausing to consider the blues and greens. Birdie doesn’t hesitate to grab both, choosing darker tones that Five would get more wear out of. Tossing them into the bag she’d grabbed at the door, she pulls him toward the leisure ware. He frowns briefly, failing to see the need in anything there. Birdie just holds up fabrics, offering them up and noting which ones Five lingers on. Eventually, she’s got lounge pants and a few hoodies in the slowly filling bag. 

Five demands they move on when he sees the price for dress shirts and trousers, an old habit from his days on The Commission’s dime. She has to remind him that money isn’t really a factor for them anymore before she can get him to choose some basic long sleeves and slacks, eyeballing the size before dragging them into the dressing room. He argues the entire time, pointing out that everything was the same size as his uniform. 

“And if you don’t like the way it looks on you?”

“Why should how I look matter?”

“How you feel matters, babe, what if it’s not comfortable? We could go to a tailor, but I’d rather see if we can find something that fits you right if we can.”

She corrals him into a cubicle at the far end of the hall, flipping the dead bolt to the door before hanging everything on the back of it. Throwing herself into the small armchair, she crosses her legs - flashing the bands of lace at the tops of her stockings before she halfheartedly pulls the hem of her skirt back over them. Five simply crosses his arms at her, eyes flashing down briefly before he continues their conversation.

“I survived 40 years making due with what I could find, I don’t see why I have to try anything on. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you would be, but I’m not Mom - I can’t just look at you and calculate your size. I don’t want to get you anything you don’t _want_ to wear.”

“I’m doing fine with what I have now.”

“You can’t steal clothes forever, are you gonna take on dates dressed as a school boy or were you planning on stealing one of my dresses? Gotta say, I love you with my everything, but I am _not_ letting you show me up like that.”

“Do you really care about what I wear that much?”

“Of course not, if I had my way we’d be naked all the time - but people will leave us alone if we blend in when we’re out in public.”

“What part of this outfit is meant to ‘blend in’?”

“ _Don’t be ridiculous_ , I dress to intimidate as much as I do to impress. Now will you please try on the shirts we picked?”

_“Will you please give me a good reason to?”_

Raising her brows at his tone, she waits a beat before shifting her weight forward onto the heel planted on the ground - letting her legs fall open as she rises from the seat. Her body rolls with the movement, before she abruptly spins on her heel to step around behind the backrest. Lifting the chair from the floor, she plants it directly in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror with a muted thud on the rough flat carpeting. 

“Sit down.”

Five doesn’t hesitate exactly, but he’s slow to take the seat - unsure what exactly his girl is playing at. She does nothing as he sits, looking at him in the mirror for a moment before moving to stand in front of him - letting her whole body sway with the movement as she turns her back to the mirror. Crossing her legs at the ankles, she lets her body bend forward to bring her nose to his. Her breath fans hotly over his chin, their lips almost touching before she swerves to place her lips on the skin behind his ear. Her mouth opens slightly, letting her tongue graze the shell of his ear as she pulls back. 

“You deserve nice things, Five.”

It’s little more than a husky rasp as her legs move to spread shoulder width apart. Bumping her nose to his cheekbone, she makes sure his eyeline is pointed at the mirror before planting her hands on top of the backrest and arching her back as she leans further into his space. She smiles into his neck at the groan he lets out at the sight in the mirror. 

Eyes trailing up the seams of her stockings, over the thick bands of lace digging slightly into the meat of her thighs - to the bare flesh glistening in the poor lighting, smooth skin on full display. 

“You know, the faster we finish shopping for you - the faster we can get some things for me.”

Palms smooth over the outsides of her thighs, fingers digging into the backs of them for a second before they rub over them soothingly.

“Though they’d _really_ be for the both of us.”

She lets her body move as Five reaches around her to pull her skirt up higher, hands grasping the swell of her ass tightly only to let go a second later. Her next sentence is lost as his hands slide down to the crease of her thighs, pulling the flesh apart to bare her completely in the mirror. He only gets a glimpse of her before she collapses into his lap, legs sprawled over either side of his hips. The damp heat of her presses against the bulge of him through the sweats, sending shivers through the both of them.

In a desperate bid to regain the upper hand, she grinds her hips down in loose circles - letting her mouth hover over his, letting his little grunts brush against her skin.

“Never could find panties to match this skirt.”

Arching her back to let her chest press flush to his, she shifts her hips in figure eights - tangling her fingers in his hair when his head starts to fall back. Bringing their faces closer, she lets her tongue flash out to flick his lower lip - swerving to press her lips to his cheek when he moves to close the distance. 

“Could never find a bra for this shirt either. Though I don’t think I ever will. What do you think, babe?”

A deeper groan rumbles in his throat, one of his hands moving from beneath her skirt to slide up the back of her shirt. His nails drag lightly over the bare skin between her shoulder blades, making her whole body twitch in his lap as he clutches her to him.

“Wanna help me look? Get me all pretty for you?”

Rocking down harder, she pulls back - leaning back with her hands grasping the front of his shirt, his hands going back to her hips to guide her against him. 

“Cause I deserve nice things, don’t I? I deserve to get all dolled up cause I wanna, deserve to feel good?”

His lap is a wet mess, the soft fabric dragging over his cock with every roll over her body. One of her hands lets go of his shirt, moving to her own chest - fingers working at a nipple through the shirt with _his number_ _plastered across the front._

“Fuck _yes_ , you do, sweetheart.”

She reaches for the hem of his shirt, making quick work of it and flinging it into the corner. His legs shift further apart when she lifts off his lap to tug at the waist of his pants. Pulling him free of the dense cotton, she works him over with her hand - spreading the pearly pre-cum at the tip down his shaft as she goes. A growl escapes his lips as she moves to stand, assuming her previous position bent over in front of the mirror. 

His eyes flick between the mirror and his lap behind his shades, before he reaches up to rip them off his face. Letting them fall to the floor, he takes in the full picture in the slightly better lighting. His hand comes up to grasp the back of his wife’s neck, relief flooding through him when she lets him pull her into a kiss. Catching her bottom lip between his teeth, he only gets a second to claim her mouth before she’s pulling back. 

“You deserve nice things too, Five. Like clothes you like that are all yours, and a wife to wear them just long enough for you to rip them off again.”

Toeing her heels off, she uses a foot to sweep them aside before lowering herself to her knees. Bracing them firmly apart, she leans over Five’s lap - her hand moving over him steadily as she looks up at him through her lashes. 

“You deserve to feel good, baby.” 

She takes half of his length into her mouth on the first pass, ripping a hiss from him as his hands tangle in her hair. Her head bops over his lap, slow and steady as she hallows her cheeks around him. His eyes move between the sight of his cock smudging her prefect lipgloss until it's a shiny mess all over the both of them and the way her ass sways slightly in the mirror - like she’s rocking back against the air, looking for relief. 

His hands fist in her hair, her words echoing in his mind while full body shudders rock through him as Birdie’s throat works over the tip of him on the down stroke. She works over him faster, using her hand on the parts of him her mouth can’t reach. Basking in the feel of wet sucking heat, he lets his head fall back for several moments before he tugs on the roots of her hair. The moan that vibrates through his lap is like a punch to the gut and his hips twitch forward before he can help himself. 

All it does is encourage her to start humming as she works, making it almost painful for him to pull her away from where she seemed content to stay. Her lips pull off him with a slick pop that rings through the small room as she falls back onto her calves to look up at him - eyes glassy as she pants for air. Reaching down, he grasps her shoulders to pull her up and spin her around to face the mirror. Lifting her skirt back up over her hips, he guides her back into his lap. Holding her hips steady as she sinks down over him, his eyes roll back at the feel of her dripping heat squeezing around him like it was trying to pull him in deeper. 

Once she’s settled, he locks his gaze on hers in the mirror. One hand pulling her thighs wider, the other slipping beneath her top to roll a peak between his nimble fingers, he turns his head slightly to speak into her ear without breaking eye-contact. 

“Make me feel good, sweetheart.”

Her eyes roll back before they flutter shut, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip violently to keep quiet. Shifting in place, a shiver dances up her spine at the stretch of him buried inside her. Her hands brace themselves on his thighs, moving with them as Five uses them to spread hers open wider. The tips of her toes brush the ground just barely, giving her no leverage as she grinds down desperately. Both of Five’s hands are under her shirt now, distorting the bold ‘5’ as his palms grasp at her breasts roughly - fingers pinching at the sensitive peaks, making her fall back against him as she squirms on his cock. 

“AH, need - need more, _Five_. Please.”

“Come on, Birdie. You know you need to do better than that, I thought this was about me?”

A high pitched whine builds in her throat, one of her hands reaching up behind her to grab the back of his neck. Eyes hooded, she finds his gaze in the mirror again. 

“Don’t you wanna come in me, baby? Can’t be in here all day, someone might come check on us - you want them seein’ me like this?”

Arms lock around her suddenly, pulling her tighter against Five’s body as his teeth find the skin of her neck. Growls muffled in her skin, rage flares up in his belly, something primal taking over at the thought of anyone other than him seeing his wife like this. Hips twitching up beneath her, he gets lost in her little hiccuping gasps - so lost that he loses control, overbalancing them and sending them sprawling forward. 

Instinct has them reaching out to break the fall, experience has them rolling with the change in position - knees bracing against the ground as they rock against each other. Five rutting down as Birdie cants her hips back, her hands stretched out in front of her to keep her face off the dirty carpet. Her stockings rip at the knees, the friction tearing the fabric and rasping against her exposed skin. Pushing himself up onto his knees, Five grasps her waist - holding her in place as he thrusts into her hard and fast, the slick sound mingling with his low sounds.

It’s all too much, Birdie burying her face in her arms to bite at her forearm. A hand grasps the hair at the back of her head, pulling her up to all fours - her jaw dropping before the hand in her hair disappears, only to clasp over her mouth. Eyes locked on their reflection, she takes in the way she looks on her hands and knees with her medallion swinging wildly where it has fallen out of her shirt. The look on Five’s face as he takes her from behind, the way his gaze stays rapt on their reflection, hand muffling her moans as he pants between each plunge. 

Her whole body is on fire, the pang of carpet burn forming and disappearing adding to the building tension in her gut. Her body starts rocking back, using the shift in his hold to her advantage as she twists her hips just so. The first brush of his cock against her sweet spot has her squealing into his palm, letting him know exactly what had just happened. Shifting his stance slightly, he makes sure each thrust is on target - losing complete control of his rhythm as they both hurtle toward the edge. 

Determined to feel her come before him, he bends forward to whisper in her ear.

“ _I deserve to feel you twitching around my cock before I come, sweetheart._ ”

Her back arches as her arms give out, her body crashing to the floor - Five following, the hand not quieting Birdie moving to hold him above her as his hips drive down into her clenching heat. He keeps going, drawing out his wife’s high until she settles beneath him - her thighs rising as they spread the slightest bit wider while she panted through the aftermath. The sight of her sprawled under him, trying to make him feel good while she’s so out of it, makes the tension in his body hit its peak. Balls drawing up tight, he comes with a silent shout - hips grinding down slightly as he empties himself into her. 

They lie in a panting heap for several minutes, laid out in the middle of the dressing room floor, before Five finally gathers himself. Dropping a kiss on Birdie’s cheek, he pushes himself back up to his knees - hissing as cool air hits his softening cock.

“Alright, I’ll try on the damn shirt.”

-

They wind up filling half the wardrobe when they get home. While Birdie sorts out her new stockings and boutique bags, Five finds he doesn’t dread their next trip so much.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that was worth the wait! Life has been in the way and I really wanted to get this out before finals start for me this week.
> 
> Please, let me know what you thought in the comments! I love hearing y'all's feedback!
> 
> Thank you to everyone reading for the support and love you've sent my way, I hope this showed at least a fraction of the appreciation I have for you guys. Also a special thank you to @laneyg_thememqueen, who has helped me so much as my beta and my friend, love ya! 
> 
> Final Note for those wondering about Do or D13 - Ch. 19 is on the way as soon as my life slows down a bit, I promise.


End file.
